The Games We Play
by Oistasia
Summary: One Shot: Ororo knows something, and T'Challa is desperate to find out. The lesson? No matter how many times you've played the game, never reveal your poker face.


Rated **T **for brief adult content.

One Shot: Ororo knows something, and T'Challa is desperate to find out. The lesson? No matter how many times you've played the game, never reveal your poker face.

Takes place sometime in the future, post-Doomwar, when T'Challa and Ororo have reclaimed the throne as the rightful rulers of Wakanda. ;)

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**The Games We Play**

Oistasia, December 2010

Ororo sighed with contentment as she stepped out of the steamy bathroom and removed the towel from her hair, allowing her long wet tresses to fall over the plush white robe that hugged her curves ever so gently. She walked across her oversized bed chamber to the panoramic window that gave her an optimal view of the palace, and overlooked a few small villages just beyond it. She took in a deep breath, allowing herself to absorb the peaceful, serene effect this morning was having on her. The view; the cool tile, providing a stark contrast to the warm skin drying beneath her robe. She simply felt complete. T'Challa had left an hour ago for his morning workout routine, and left her sound asleep. Normally, she'd wake up to find that he'd returned, thank the Goddess, and his workout had rejuvenated his spirit, leading to many, _many_ wonderful mornings.

Today, on the other hand, Ororo had woken early… to watch the sunrise, she'd told herself. There was something miraculous, almost… maternal, she had decided, about witnessing the birth of a new day. Endless possibilities.

Ororo unconsciously stroked her flat, toned stomach, and a warm smile graced her delicate features. She stood in silence, anticipating Ra's arrival.

Several minutes passed and Ororo heard the sound of a muffled- no, _two _muffled voices outside their bed chamber.

T'Arrance, the clerk that monitored everything pertaining to activity outside the royal couple's quarters, was greeting someone – a gesture that was returned with an inordinate amount of gusto – and that someone was headed towards the chamber door. Ororo dropped her hand from her abdomen and opted to hold her arms instead.

The footsteps came to a halt, and the large double doors to their bed chamber swung open.

Silence.

"Good morning, beloved." She said warmly, her eyes hypnotized by the gleaming horizon.

Still, silence.

"Is… Is it true?"

Ororo snapped out of her daze and smiled unconsciously at the sound of her husband's soothing voice. She glanced up quickly in the window and saw his distant reflection. He was… smiling? It wasn't just any smile, she noticed. It was one rarely worn by him. It was genuine, albeit a little goofy, and yet … hesitant. And the ever- intimidating Black Panther _**never**_ hesitated.

'Tsk, tsk T'Challa' she thought to herself. He had revealed himself. It amazed her how the man with the world's best poker face could be so malleable in her hands.

She decided to play a little game; after all, she enjoyed making him squirm just a little on the inside. It was something T'Challa himself had come to terms with – for all his physical and intellectual prowess, he could never explain how she was capable of doing this to him – making him feel like for once in his life, he wasn't the only one holding the cards… Well, at least all the ones that mattered.

And, she noted, _he hadn't acknowledged her._

"I have no idea what you're talking about dear." She said as coy as ever, still facing the window, eyes downcast.

T'Challa knew exactly what she was doing, and decided to play a little game of his own.

"You know Ororo," he said as he briefly looked away, then slowly made his way over to his wife, keeping his eyes glued to her posterior silhouette, "I have eyes and ears all over the palace."

Ororo lifted her chin, refusing to acknowledge his attempt at levity. She smiled to herself. '_Come now, you'll have to try much harder than that._'

"So you've resorted to spying on me? Your own wife?" She met his eyes in the window and spoke directly at him. "Honestly T'Challa, I thought we were much closer than that."

She returned her gaze to the window and noticed with the sun's increasing illumination that a few of the plants in the courtyard were in need of a little water; it had, after all, been an unusually dry summer, one that she had tried to keep at bay, nonetheless.

She concentrated on the shrubbery, and her eyes changed from their normal majestic cerulean to a shocking effervescent white. A tiny row of clouds appeared above the plants and a light shower of rain droplets began to fall. Ororo closed her eyes, feeling the release the water provided to the plants, like water on parched lips, or the annual rains that fed the River Nile, or, _or-_

She hadn't counted on a sneak attack from behind.

"_**Mhmmm**__…"_

She was distracted at the moment, for a very familiar sensation plagued her neck and was making its way down her collarbone. T'Challa's sensual, wet kisses were driving Ororo mad, and when his right hand found itself under her robe, roaming its way up her body, she all but gave in. He pressed his body's hard, muscular frame against hers, closing any and every space between them.

"_Goddess, T'Challa…_" Ororo moaned with delight. The miniscule cloud stretched, and the once light rain became a torrential downpour, soaking the plants entirely.

He increased his ministrations, feverously massaging her breasts and kissing her relentlessly. Ororo reached back and wrapped her arm around his neck, encouraging him to continue. She massaged the back of his neck and T'Challa moaned.

"_**Mhmmm, Ororo…**_"

"_Beloved… __**Goddess**__, don't stop…_" she said, eyes still closed. The tiny rain cloud dispersed.

'… 1. 2. 3.'

He stopped.

Ororo's eyes popped open and she whirled around facing her husband, searching his chocolate brown eyes. He looked into hers, and that was all she needed.

She closed the gap between them and kissed him deeply, allowing her tongue to explore all four quadrants of his mouth, and he reciprocated her actions, letting forth a guttural moan of his own.

'…1. 2. 3.'

He pulled away again.

Ororo's eyes popped open for the second time within the last few minutes, confused and irritated at T'Challa-

"Wh-?"

-only to find him staring out the window at a point just over her head. And he was… Smiling?

Ororo knew that smile – not one of hesitation or uncertainty, but confidence, almost… Cocky? The bastard. He knew he'd won, and she was pretty sure that he'd cheated to do it.

"Is it true? " He asked, still staring out the window with a grin a mile wide, pale orange sunlight reflecting in his eyes.

Ororo opened her mouth to formulate the words she so desperately wanted to say.

'_**Cheater... That wasn't fair**__._'

When she found she couldn't, Ororo laughed, and T'Challa's seemingly feral grin became contagious. She rested her forehead gently on her husband's chest, feeling his steady heartbeat pounding against her frontal lobe. She sighed, and said in the tiniest whisper:

"Yes."

T'Challa squeezed her body against his in an all-consuming hug. He leaned back and kissed her forehead. Ororo, content, grew quiet, and the couple stood in silence for a few minutes.

"It- It's just so new to me – _to us_. Do you think we'll make good parents, T'Challa?" Ororo looked into her husband's gleaming eyes for, for… _Goddess knew what._

He looked into her majestic cerulean oceans and smiled. Ororo recognized that smile. It was _her _smile, and she was the only person that ever had the privilege of seeing it.

He squeezed her again and replied in a soft tone, "_Of course_. We've been through so much together beloved – conquered demons from the past, and drove out those who dared to threaten our way of life. Our child will only usher in a new chapter of our lives, one that we will write together as a family; a legacy that will continue to be built upon through the ages of time. He will be the King of kings, not because of what others will choose to think of him, but because it is in his blood. _Our blood_."

An unshed tear twinkled in Ororo's eye and she nuzzled her head back onto his chest.

"I love you." She said in the faintest whisper. T'Challa smiled and kissed her forehead again.

"And I, you. You are my Constant, Ororo, forever and always."

She smiled, and the couple stood in complete and utter silence.

Ororo spoke after a few moments.

"Don't think I didn't catch what you said either, T'Challa."

He sighed, his breath ruffling a few stray hairs on Ororo's scalp.

"My Queen, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh really_ Your Highness?_ 'King of kings'? And what makes you so confident that it will be a boy?"

T'Challa paused for a moment and an all-knowing grin spread across his lips. He shrugged nonchalantly and cracked one eye open.

"I have good aim."

Ororo gasped incredulously and swatted him on the chest before pulling his head down to meet her lips as she chuckled lightly.

"Come here you."

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**Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.**


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